


Counterparts

by Rhiannon87



Category: Uncharted
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, F/M, Gen, what if
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-26
Updated: 2012-11-26
Packaged: 2017-11-19 14:08:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/574082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhiannon87/pseuds/Rhiannon87
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marlowe thinks she knows a lot more than she does, and Elena's always been stronger than her doubts. Mini-AU, set during Uncharted 3.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Counterparts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [beltsquid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/beltsquid/gifts).



> Inspired by [this post](http://rhiannon42.tumblr.com/post/36459717533/okay-so-i-have-this-idea-theory-thesis) and tag essay by beltsquid. The short version: Marlowe could be seen as Elena's dark counterpart, and it's a shame they never even met. This mini-AU is an attempt to rectify that oversight.

Elena's phone buzzes as they leave the tower, and she slows to pull it out of her pocket. “Just up the stairs there,” she tells Sully, her attention split between reading the message and walking down the street. One of her supervisors wants to follow up on the 'visiting journalists' she requested passes for, great, that's just what she needs. She's risking her career over this, and Nate probably has no idea--

“Elena?”

She glances up at Nate and waves him on ahead. “I'm coming, I'm coming.”

He takes a step towards her, then stops. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, it's fine.” She tucks her phone back in her pocket and walks towards him. “Let's go--”

There's a pinprick on the side of her neck. Her fingers brush against something small and solid stuck in her skin, and she yanks it free with a wince. It looks like a tiny dart, the needle stained with her blood, and Elena blinks at it.

“Elena, what's...” Nate trails off, and he plucks the dart from her suddenly nerveless fingers. “Oh, shit.” Her vision blurs and wavers, and Elena squeezes her eyes shut, presses a hand to her forehead.

“What's wrong?” Sully asks.

“They drugged her,” Nate says. “Like Charlie.”

“Oh, god.”

Someone grabs her arm, and Elena jerks away on instinct. “Don't,” she snaps, stumbling backwards. There's fog in the street, or in her eyes, and she blinks hard, trying to clear it away.

“Elena, listen.” Nate's voice, but it doesn't sound right. “It's gonna be okay, all right? Just trust me--”

Trust him? After everything he's done to her, he wants her to trust him? “Stay back,” she snaps. A shadowy figure, half-hidden in the fog, moves towards her, and she takes a blind swing at it. It jumps away, and Elena's back hits metal. The gate by the stairs-- yeah, she knows where she is, and where the road goes. She spins around and yanks the gate open, and she's got just enough presence of mind to slam it shut and lock it behind her. Someone grabs the gate and shakes it, trying to get through. “Elena!”

She turns on her heel and runs.

*

The streets don't look right, don't sound right, and she stumbles down half-familiar alleyways. She needs to get away. She needs to hide, find somewhere safe to go until this damn fog lifts.

“Come with me.”

Elena stops, one hand pressed to the wall to keep it from bending and sliding away, and turns her head, blindly looking for the source of the voice. British accent-- Charlie? No, not Charlie, he doesn't sound like that. “No...”

“It's all right.” The voice is soft, coaxing. “I'll take you somewhere safe.”

There's a hand on her arm again. She can't pull away, can't get a clear look at him to fight him off, and so she staggers along beside the man. “Please don't.”

“Just come with me, Elena.” Who is he, how does he know her name, this isn't right, this isn't right at all... “You'll be safe.”

It's a lie, and she knows it.

The buzzing in her ears surges to a dull roar, and the fog gets thicker. She can't see anything beyond her own feet, stumbling along the pavestones, can't hear anything besides snatches of conversation.

“...missed, how could you have--” A loud crack, and Elena recoils on instinct, sinking down to the ground now that they've stopped moving.

“...supposed to do with her?”

“Make do. Get her up.”

The roar gets louder, drowning out everything, and her vision goes white.

*

Elena blinks. Her head's pounding, and she aches all over. She's got a stitch in her side, just under the worst of the scars, and she groans and rubs at her eyes.

“Welcome back.”

Elena drops her hand and looks up. She's sitting in one of the small squares on the western side of the city, at one of the tables outside a small coffee shop. It's a little under a mile from her apartment, which makes her feel better. She knows where she is, at least. She shakes her head to clear it and forces her vision to focus on the person sitting at the table with her. Older woman, blonde, with a gentle, almost maternal smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes.

There's really only one person it could be. “Marlowe,” Elena says.

Marlowe's smile grows a fraction. “A pleasure to finally make your acquaintance, Ms. Fisher.” The smile fades, and she shakes her head. “I apologize for all the unpleasantness. But we really didn't have much of a choice.”

We? Elena looks around, seeing for the first time the man in a vest and tie at one of the nearby tables. Talbot, she remembers, the man Nate and Sully had spotted from the rooftop. He's glowering silently at the ground, a nasty-looking bruise forming just under his left eye.

“You see, we were aiming for Nathan,” Marlowe continues. “Unfortunately, you were hit instead.”

Elena swallows hard and straightens up. Her head still hurts, but her thoughts feel clear. “What do you want with him?”

“We need the information he and Victor have gathered on Iram,” Marlowe says. “I understand Victor has the location...” She taps the side of her head and smiles.

“How do you know that?”

Marlowe laughs. “You told us, dear,” she says.

Elena looks away, her stomach twisting. Oh, god. What else did she tell them? Her gaze falls on the thick file sitting in front of Marlowe, and she leans back in her chair, her arms wrapped around herself. “So what happens to me?”

“Oh, nothing unpleasant,” Marlowe assures her. “Simply put, we need your assistance. You help us find Nathan and Victor, and you'll be on your way.”

Elena slowly lifts her head to stare at her. “No,” she says flatly.

“Your loyalty is admirable,” Marlowe says. “But somewhat misplaced, don't you think? What have they ever brought you but suffering and heartbreak?”

Elena shakes her head. “I'm not helping you find them,” she says. “And if you think either of them are going to help you find Iram, then you don't know them very well.”

Marlowe chuckles in genuine amusement. “Better than you do, I'm sure.” She pulls a pair of reading glasses out of her jacket and flips open the file. “Quite an interesting man, Nathan Drake,” she says. Elena can see a couple pictures of Nate, mugshots from his past arrests, clipped to a few sheets of paper. “I understand why you wouldn't want to take his name, since it's a lie.”

“What?” The question's out before she can stop it, and Elena finds herself wanting to slap the triumphant smile off Marlowe's face.

“You're a smart woman, Elena,” Marlowe says. “You didn't really think he was descended from Sir Francis, did you? Drake isn't his real name. He's an orphan. His mother committed suicide, and his father surrendered him to the state when he was five. He grew up in an orphanage.” Marlowe chuckles and flips another page. “Quite Dickensian, isn't it? The runaway orphan boy who can never escape the life of crime. Or the lies he's told everyone.”

Elena folds her arms. Nate hadn't ever told her any of that, and for all she knows, it's not true. But that's a concern for later. “You're gonna have to do better than that if you want me to turn on my husband,” she says.

Marlowe gives her a pitying look. “Is he really your husband, still?” she asks. “He left you. For this.” She waves at the square, presumably indicating the whole misadventure that brought Nate to Yemen in the first place. “I know men like Nathan. The adventure, the treasure, the mystery, that's always going to be more important. He's never going to love you more than he loves all this.”

_You love all this as much as I do_ , Nate's voice echoes in her head, and Elena's heart clenches. “That might be true,” she says, forcing the words out, no matter how much it hurts, “and if it is, I'll keep moving on with my life. But that doesn't change the fact that I still love him, and Sully, and I am _not helping you_.”

Marlowe presses her lips together, looking torn between anger and disappointment. Before she can speak again, though, Talbot stands up and walks over. He puts a hand on her shoulder and leans down to whisper into her ear. Elena takes advantage of their distraction to glance around the square. The street behind Marlowe is the fastest way back to her apartment, but the one to her right is closer. And if she goes right, she can cut through the alley, get back to the market...

“Ah, excellent.” Marlowe claps her hands together and smiles. “It appears we've found Sullivan. On the other side of the city.” She arches an eyebrow at Elena. “So much for a rescue.”

Elena sighs. “Now what?”

“Well, we still need Nathan's notes,” Marlowe says. “Between you and Sullivan, that should be sufficient bait to draw him out.” She smiles, cold and mirthless. “We can see where his love really lies, if he has to choose between the treasure and you.”

She doesn't know Nate at all. This isn't about the treasure, it's _never_ been about the treasure. It's about his pride. And Elena knows him well enough to believe that he'll sacrifice it, he'll hand over everything and swear not to follow them, if it means keeping her and Sully safe. “Won't that be fun,” Elena says dryly as Marlowe gets to her feet. She follows suit, recoiling a bit when Talbot reaches for her.

Marlowe waves a dismissive hand at her lieutenant. “She's a smart girl,” she says. “She's not going to do anything reckless.”

Elena smiles. Oh, Marlowe doesn't know any of them, not really, or she'd know that nothing could be further from the truth. Chasing down a treasure hunter in the middle of the Amazon, running into war zones to chase rumors, risking her career to help Nate on yet another adventure-- reckless has been her stock and trade for years now. No reason to change now. Elena takes half a step to the side, turning so that she's facing Marlowe, and gives her a sweet smile. “Of course not,” she says, then swings back and throws a right hook into the other woman's jaw.

Marlowe staggers to the side, clutching her face, and Talbot grabs her in panic. Elena bolts for the right-hand street. “Stop her!” Marlowe shouts, and Elena risks a glance over her shoulder to see Talbot sprinting out of the square after her. He's taller and faster, but Elena's lived in this city for months now. She knows the streets, she knows the language, and most importantly, she knows the people.

Elena swerves around a parked car and pounds down the street towards the market. Behind her, she can hear people shouting as Talbot shoves past them, and she takes a deep breath, forces herself to go faster. She spots the stall she needs and grins. “Hadith!” she shouts. The merchant leans out to look, and his eyes go wide when he sees her. He's got an uncle in the Defense Ministry, and he's been a good source of information. In return, she goes well out of her way to do her grocery shopping with him. He likes her, is the important thing, and she's not above using that to her full advantage. Elena jerks a thumb over her shoulder. “ _Stop him!_ ”

Hadith doesn't ask questions, just nods. He's reaching under his stall for the taser she knows he keeps there as she sprints past. Elena hears more shouting, then a choked scream and the faint buzz of electricity. She rounds the corner but doesn't slow down. Marlowe's people will be looking for her. She needs to get back to her apartment, but she also needs to stay out of sight. Elena ducks into a narrow alley and hurries along, mentally mapping out her route.

*

It takes close to two hours of backtracking, circling, and doubling around before Elena reaches her apartment building. She's exhausted, but at least she's certain she's not being followed. She pulls her keys out of her pocket and fumbles with the lock. She needs to track down Nate. Together, they should be able to find Sully.

She pushes the door open and stops dead at the sight of Nate in her living room. He blinks at her, then lets out a breath that's bordering on a sob. “Oh, thank god,” he says and crosses the room to throw his arms around her.

Elena closes her eyes and leans her head against his shoulder. “How did you get in?” she mumbles.

“Bedroom window was unlocked,” he says. Elena huffs out a laugh. Being on the fifth floor, she hadn't been concerned about locking the window. Then again, Nate hadn't been in the city, so there'd really been no reason to.

Nate draws back slightly, his hands on her shoulders and his eyes wide as he searches her face. “Are you okay?”

She nods. “I'm fine.”

“God, Elena, I'm so sorry,” he says and pulls her back into a hug. “This is my fault, I never should have gotten you involved in all this.”

Elena sighs and wraps her arms around his back. “I didn't have to help you get into the country,” she points out. “I knew what I was getting into.” Well... all right, she didn't know the exact details, but she knows Nate. She had no illusions of safety when she'd said that she'd help.

“I doubt that,” Nate mutters. He steps back and guides her over to the couch. “Are you sure you're okay?” he asks as she sags back against the cushions.

She nods. “I'm fine, Nate, really.” She clears her throat and glances up at him. “Would you mind getting me a glass of water?”

Nate nods and disappears into the kitchen. He gets the cabinet for the glasses on the first try, and Elena smiles faintly. She always organizes her kitchen the same way, and he obviously remembers, from when they lived together. Nate detours briefly to the front door to close and lock it, then sits down on the couch beside her and presses the glass into her hands.

Elena downs half of it in one go. “They got Sully,” she says, leaning forward to set the glass on the coffee table.

Nate nods. “I know,” he says. “We-- we split up to look for you, and he got back to the rendezvous a few minutes before I did. I got there just in time to see Marlowe's thugs haul him into a truck.” His fingers dig into his knees, and Elena covers his hand with hers. He glances over at her. “What happened?” he asks. “Sully and I tried to stop you, but you just bolted.”

Elena sighs. “Talbot and Marlowe picked me up,” she says. Nate's eyes go wide with horror, and he takes her hand in both of his. “Marlowe wanted me to help her find you and Sully.”

Nate huffs out a laugh. “Clearly, she doesn't know you very well.”

She can't help a smile at his obvious faith in her. “Clearly.” She's got a lot of questions for Nate, but... later. They've got more important things to focus on right now. “You have any idea where they took Sully?”

He nods. “I followed the truck for a while,” he says. “I think I've got a pretty good idea. Marlowe's thugs stand out pretty well, we should be able to find the place.”

“Good.” Elena glances down at their hands, still linked together, then looks back up at Nate. “Ready to go stage a daring rescue?”

“Always.” He hesitates a moment. “Don't suppose you've got any guns here, do you?”

“No, but there's a really good kabob place a couple streets over that also deals in black-market pistols.”

“Perfect. I hate storming the bad guy's stronghold on an empty stomach.”

Elena grins. She really hopes that Marlowe's there when they swoop in and rescue Sully. The look on her face is going to be priceless.


End file.
